Monday, October 22, 2012

Boared to Death: And The Cockie Goes To...

During the work week, commuting by bicycle in Manhattan is fraught with frustrations and obstacles. Gridlock, dead bodies, and people from New Jersey are just a few of the maddening things that will impede your progress. Also, thanks to a collaboration between the DOT and the DEP, every third Thursday we now have something called "Puma Streets," in which thousands of live pumas are released into the urban environment. Once freed, they tend to pounce from lampposts onto the heads of the unsuspecting. There you are, emerging from a deli with a cup of hot coffee, and the next thing you know you've got a large cat of prey clinging tenaciously to your scalp.

Of course, by late Friday afternoon they've usually got most of the pumas rounded up and gassed, but that doesn't mean weekends don't bring their own problems for the bicycle commuter. For example, large portions of the avenues are often closed for street fairs:

New York City is one of the greatest cities in the world, and apart from a soda larger than 16 ounces or a decent burrito you can purchase anything you could possibly imagine here at pretty much any time of the day or night. Pick any city our country in the world, and if you can't actually visit it there's probably a neighborhood in New York City that's the next-best thing and only a bike or subway ride away. Nevertheless, the city persists in closing random streets at random times and snarling traffic so that people can sell you gyros and bootleg Yankees caps. I'm not sure why this is, since it seems like closing a three-star restaurant so you can host a pop-up McDonald's in it, but I just assume it has something to do with the mafia.

Then, once you've circumvented the street fairs, you're bound to get trapped in some kind of charity activity, which is what happened to me when the breast cancer walk took over my bike lane:

Moments after I took this photo the straggler was pounced upon my an errant puma, but I successfully scared it off of her by applying shorts blasts of air to its face with my mini pump.

Yesterday also saw the running of the Bike MS ride, and while I certainly respect the cause I also knew the area roadie corridors would be even more congested than usual, so once again I sought refuge in the wilderness. It's now been over a year since I've taken delivery of my Engin all-terrain style bicycle, and every ride on it makes me happy that I did:

In fact, the bike makes me so ridiculously happy that it's the only all-terrain style bicycle I've been riding since I got it, and so yesterday I decided to ride my other bike with the clicky gears and the bouncy fork instead:

It's a lot of fun getting on a shifty bouncy bike after spending a lot of time on a non-shifty bumpy bike. Then again, it's also a lot of fun to ride a non-shifty bumpy bike after spending a lot of time on a shifty bouncy bike. It's like when you eat some salty delicious chips, and that makes you want some ice cream, and then the ice cream makes you want the chips again, so you go back and forth and back and forth and get stuck in a salty/sweet feedback loop. Then, you wake up four hours later, shirtless and with your face stuck to the sofa cushions.

Which I like very much because: 1) it's refreshingly simple; and A) it reminds me of a wild boar:

Before the whole "Puma Streets" thing they used to release wild boars into the subway stations. The trick was to get them to charge at you and then step away at the last second so they'd either get run over by an approaching train or else get electrocuted on the third rail. I can still remember that burnt-hair-and-bacon smell when someone managed to pull off the latter scenario. Mmm, delicious.

Anyway, in addition to posting the picture I included a poll:

Apparently, 1,035 people think the wild boarpit shouldn't win. However, one person does think I should "just pick a fucking winner already:"

At first I was insulted, but then I realized that "sh3rp4" was absolutely correct, and that I could conceivably wind up sitting on this contest for months or even years. Therefore, I am picking a winner, and here it is:

I sincerely apologize to the 78% of people who disagree with my choice, but I secretly enjoy being contrary, and also this is what happens in an electoral college system. Congratulations to the winner, and I will be in touch sometime in the coming months or years to arrange delivery of your Knog prizeways. (You will be getting Knog Blinder USB-rechargeable lights, which I love, but which are bright enough to blow your face off, so always wear sunglasses while handling.)

McQuaid was defiant over questions regarding assertions by Floyd Landis and others that the UCI had accepted a $100,000 donation from Armstrong in 2002 in exchange for concealing a positive drugs test at the 2001 Tour de Suisse.

“There is no connection between the donation to the UCI and a test covered up, because there was no test to cover up,” said McQuaid, who added that the federation would accept donations from athletes in the future. “We would accept it differently and announce it differently than we did before.”

In other words, the UCI doesn't shit where it eats. Rather, it finishes eating, lets someone else pick up the check, and then leaves a great big steamer for a tip.

And with that, the sport of cycling is now totally clean. Nicely done, everybody.

Armstrong has been influential in the adoption and development of carbon race frames, as well as other components and accessories. He has changed modern cycling and today many of his design contributions are part of the racing norm. Stradalli Cycle has made an official job offer to Lance Armstrong for an undisclosed amount. His response is not yet known.

Of all that's happened over the past few weeks somehow this is the one that really drives things home. Getting a job offer from Stradalli after you've lost all your sponsors and wins is like getting a $50 gift certificate to Bed Bath & Beyond after the bank has foreclosed on your house.

Ballet, bell helmets, bicycles, bridges - m4w - 34 (SE Hawthorne - Bagdad Theater)Date: 2012-10-16, 9:29PM PDTYou: beautiful blonde bicyclist outside the Bagdad theater. Great smile and sense of humor, with a keen sense of direction. Me: brown hair, black bike, befuddled. I (sincerely) asked you for directions to a good bike route heading west from the Bagdad Theater after OMSI Science Pub: The Physics of Ballet. You may have thought it was the lamest pick-up attempt ever, which it was, because I didn't realize I was picking up on you at the time. During our chat you noticed we had the same Bell helmet. "Twins!" I said, because I'm selectively clever. When I proceeded to follow your directions, you soon caught up with me, and I jokingly called you a stalker. You pointed out that I'm the one that started the conversation with you. Then you had to go south while I continued west. Well, I'd like to continue our conversation, even though I'm clearly a bit daft and need directions on how to flirt and be flirted with, as well as to the nearest bike route. I can always use another reason to peddle across the Hawthorne bridge. Let's add some trips to that bike counter that was recently installed.

I'm pretty sure that in Portland misspelling "pedal" as "peddle" can get you banished to Washington state.

I get the feeling that if Lance ever comes clean it will make "Shitstorm 2012" look like Howdy Doody time. Imagine the full scoop on who-what-when-where-how and perhaps why...there won't be a single sponsor left and pro cycling will be history.

Puma Streets is 100 percent bulls-eye. I can easily—easily—visualize the public announcement of the program for the TV news, with crazed, roaring caged cats in the background, where each pol and commissioner gets a minute at the mike to brag about it, and is then sped away in official cars before the cages are opened. And then the inevitable press conference where Bloomberg insults and dismisses reporters who ask whether reintroducing top-level carnivores to the urban ecosystem was really a good idea. Welcome to fucking New York City.

Well I was certainly surprised to find my CL posting reprinted here for the amusement of your tens of readers. I found it to be about as funny as the directions to the gay bath house that the subject of my post provided me (not that there's anything wrong with that). Everyone's a fuckin' comedian, I tell ya.

And, Mister Smartypants Blogger, I really did mean to write "peddle", and not "pedal" as you snarkily tried to infer. I'm always on the lookout for alternate venues to set up my artisanal balloon animal booth, and in fact think business just might be better on the other side of the river. So there.

Today's Snobblog post is like the NYT's Monday Crossword puzzle - easy. Or gentle, if you prefer. Will the remainder of this week's posts ramp up the righteousness and fury as the NYT's puzzles traditionally ramp up in difficulty? Will Friday's post be virtually impossible to read without tears, terror and tantrums?We can only hope...

WRM on Lance: And with that, the sport of cycling is now totally clean. Nicely done, everybody.

That's how I feel about the fire department: When they put out a fire, all you hear is, like, "thanks so much, great job, so brave". I'm like, "and with that, the city is now totally fireproof. Nicely done everybody."

The beauty of cycling is it's easy to outride those zombies, so the dead bodies are really only a hazard to peds and a boon to the local car wash.

I like the subtlety of the warthog bike. Sort of like the snake fangs, yet a big FU to those who hacksaw their handlebars. If you or your load are particularly wide, they double as whiskers to alert you that you won't fit between those two cars. Still, I voted against them - lacks the blatant lunacy that warns of a mentally unstable owner.

The previous commenter who said it was his Craigslist post is an impostor. I'm the real one. Anyway, I reconnected with the gal who gave me directions and we had dirty sex in the cargo area of my bakfiets.

One of the older, more distinguished, fast as hell mofo's showed up for a ride on a Stradalli the other day. I was like are you kidding me? I thought those things were make-believe. Like the tooth-bunny, Santa and Sex-With-No-Strings-Attached.

I completely agree with Anon@1:04! The only consolation is that this "WINNING!" cockpit rider could certainly use some Knog lights to go with that lonely rear reflector. Perhaps, then, he/she won't end up as Puma bait during a dark & overcast weekend street fair.

^ Wow, those welds blow goats! The bottle bosses are criminal! I originally voted NO on the boar-pit, but tonight I see the genius in having a tool to grind along those occupy-bike-lane drivers. (all 217 of them I counted between Red Hook and Washington Heights this evening. Well, maybe I'd skip the 23 cop cars at 124th.

Somebody needs to send that picture of those awful welds to Lance. The last thing he needs right now is to just take the first job offer that comes along only to find out later what kind of outfit he got mixed up in.

Yes, I clearly said, and obviously believe, that pro sports and firefighting are the same. I definitely was NOT making an analogy to illustrate a point, that's for sure.

BTW, the USADA people and I are getting together for the annual straw-man convention next month, in case anyone wants to come with.

But, FWIW, factually I'm OK with the comparison with the "soda ban", as you call it. Mostly I wish Bloomberg had gone home to Boston long ago, but prohibiting sale of sugar water in extremely large cups at food-service locations (oh hell, "soda ban") is one of the few good initiatives the sanctimonious little prick may leave behind when he goes home to Bermuda.

No, it won't make everyone "totally healthy", but it's actually a very well-aimed stab at mitigating a serious problem by targeting one of its most egregiously bad manifestations. Kind of like …… anybody come to mind?

(You may actually agree with me about the soda thing; the tone of your reply was cryptic. Though while I never suggested firefighting and pro sports are "equally important", you actually do seem to be saying that for spectator sports and public health. Bit odd.)

Thanks for the reply though, seriously.

And as long as I control the Internet for a moment, may I suggest that the next contest be a New Yorker-style caption competition for that high-larious picture of a car killing a cyclist? My entry would be that it's the aftermath of a "do you have any Grey Poupon?" inquiry gone very wrong.

Much props to all that cycle in Manhattan! It's all too much for my nerves that I stay in Queens. Anyone else been hit by a car? That New Yorker pic makes me want to send them a firm but polite letter that I'm sure no one will read.

David G, I agree with you, but I'm cutting Snobby some slack. Lance befriended him early in his blogging career, and so he's understandably having some trouble dealing with his hero's crash-n-burn. Lots of other fans have been a lot more irrational about the consequences of the "prince's" actions. Again, it's natural and to be expected. I think they will get over it. At least I hope so.

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About Me

While I love cycling and embrace it in all its forms, I'm also extremely critical. So I present to you my venting for your amusement and betterment. No offense meant to the critiqued. Always keep riding!